His Knives
by TurtleFriedRice
Summary: For MuffinGirlBethan's Halloween Contest. Zosan, Blood/Gore, Smut. Happy Halloween Everyone!


**Muffingirlbethan's Halloween Contest Entry - Turtlefriedrice - Thank you so much MyLadyDay for being my Beta reader! xoxo Happy Halloween everyone!**

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Zoro shifted his chin away but it still wasn't enough to keep blood off his face and hair. It just came with the profession, he supposed, as the initial shock of his craft had long faded. How long had it been since he was forced to do such dirty work? Months, perhaps? Regardless, he dared to sneak a glance back over with dark eyes, allowing his sense of vision to adjust yet again in the moonlight.

Honestly, sledgehammers were not made for this purpose and if anything they made more of a mess. But Zoro could feel the glare on his back, watching him with critical eyes. It made the night air a little crisper and he rolled his eyes, a disgusted grunt coming from inside his chest. The kind of fetishes the man he found himself with had, he swore, why was he even surprised anymore?

But still he couldn't help pausing a moment, after the crumbled remains of the teeth were engulfed by the bodily juices puddling around in the grass, tilting his head a bit and gazing down at the latest victim. What an unlucky son of a bitch, had he only known better. Wait no, that wasn't justification for this, it was sick. Yet here he was playing his own part in it. Damn, Zoro scowled, he was getting more familiar with this shit than he'd liked.

This poor sapp though, unrecognizable by even it's mother at this point, definitely hadn't had it easy. Zoro wouldn't have any humanity left if he didn't at least sympathize, only finding comfort in the fact that this person, male or female he could never tell, hadn't been still alive when delivered to him as pieces.

Had they only been lucky like Zoro, if you could consider that lucky. For some reason, the Marimo was always thinking back to that rather bitterly, even then as he shoved what was left of the remains over with the sole of his boot into the hole. This could have been him. He could have had a similar fate, in a hole somewhere back home in his yard, maybe next to the tree house or where Fido 'ran off' to.

Regardless he had a job to do now, against his will or not, and the former swordsman filed away his dirty secret, a silent plea for them to do well next time never leaving his lips. If there was a next time, sometimes he didn't even know what to think. If there was one, maybe they'd get one too? He doubted that. Still after using this house's water hose to clear the mess, which automatically made this a good day at work, Zoro walked back to his truck, climbed inside and returned 'home'.

Home reeked of copper and Zoro was, honestly, missing the smell of granny's cookies or something when entering such a home. Though, he didn't dare ask, simply because it wouldn't surprise him if the cook actually did have them waiting on the mantle. He unzipped his jumpsuit, letting it slump to the ground and kicked it off to the side. Man it felt so much better out of that thing.

Boots were the next to go before the swordsman found his feet moving him forward, following the sound of the running water while he straightened up his shirt cuffs. His boss got pretty damn prissy if he didn't wear the uniform well enough. But hearing the water could only mean one thing; he'd lost the race home again. The Marimo was surprised, however, to find the kitchen bare, no one in sight, though the faucet was still running cold.

He approached the sink, furrowing his brows at the sight of the murky red water, looking like someone had gone ape shit with the food dye. Though, his annoyance wasn't on the bloody still running water specifically, but more so the butcher knives settled against the bottom. He cut it off irritably. If he had had a nickel for each time that blonde dumb ass had gone on about how he couldn't clean his blades like that and now he'd found him doing the same exact thing-

"You're late." The cook's deep voice soothed at his ear, lean arms moving swiftly under his and into the water with a low splash.

It had Zoro on his toes. God damn, he always had a way of sneaking up on him. He had to force himself to calm down and not be tense, no doubt the cook would feel it the way he was pressed against his body, clothes still soaked with blood against him. Sanji didn't seem to pay any heed though, using the space of Zoro's neck and shoulder to look down and wrap his fingers around the handle of a blade.

"Did you finish it?" he pondered out loud, turning his chin inward, staring up with eyes that held a child like curiosity.

Zoro took a few more seconds to breath, watching as the knife was pulled from the water. He closed his eyes a moment, gathering himself before turning his face and meeting Sanji's gaze, eye to eye.

"You know I did, idiot."

Sanji's lips peeled back in a grin and he leaned a little closer, practically purring as he lightly traced the scar on Zoro's face, the memory of one of his eyes, a purr escaping from inside him.

"I'm glad, I wouldn't want to take both eyes from you now."

Zoro scowled, beginning to pull away, fighting against the locked grip the cook had around him with his other arm.

"You say that every time." He growled, his voice slightly hoarse. "You won't do shit. Now get off of me. Who do you thinks gotta clean up this blood on the floor-"

Zoro's breath hitched, his heart seeming to stop as a familiar burn and sting ripped its way up his side. His eye widened as he was finally able to stumble to the side, Sanji having pulled back his arm to look at his handy work. Zoro's hand went to below his rib cage, a snarl escaping him as he felt the tear of his shirt and the fresh blood that began to spill. It was a shallow cut, the cook wasn't skilled for nothing, but still surprising. He glowered him down.

Sanji rested back against the counter, innocently turning his knife back and licking off the top, allowing his spoiled taste buds to do their magic. It was at this distance Zoro could finally see the sight that usually waited for him a few times a week. Sanji was wearing his nice everyday clothes, the type that came with the ordinary hosting job he had, but they were splattered and stained with the latest victim. He was also, as Zoro had pointed out with his groan about cleaning, dripping onto the kitchen tile.

The cook was chuckling at Zoro's priceless expression. The former swordsman, however, simply relaxed his shoulders, rolling them back and reaching forward to take the knife.

"Hell no, you've had enough tonight."

He wasn't about to indulge this bastard's blood lust even more, as the occasional extra dosage of attention was enough he had to deal with. What happened to the days when this was much more professional? Where either he was murdered or did his job before being locked down in the basement until he was needed again? Sanji's eyes were lit with excitement, though, and he doubted this was going to end easily.

So it wasn't a surprise that Zoro's attempt to take away his last bit of fun wouldn't fly here. He dodged Zoro's arm swiftly, flicking his wrist around to slice up the appendage. It made Zoro hiss and grab it. He narrowed his eyes.

"I'm warning you, you know. I'm not in the mood for your fucking teasing." Came his snarl.

Sanji's face may have dulled. As if Zoro could ever scare him off with some kind of warning. Who was the mass murderer here again? He didn't wear this secret title with pride for nothing.

"Who said I was teasing? I've only decided to change the tiles red. It'll be interesting to watch you lick them clean tonight."

"Oh yeah? While your ass sits and drinks wine? I don't think so."

Zoro, despite the blood from his side and his arm, moved forward, pushing against the cook and sending him back firmer into the counter. His eye stared heavily into his, his hand trailing down Sanji's arm, forcefully grabbing the handle of the knife as well, their grip strength clashing for its control. Sanji pressed himself forward, letting the fresh crimson from the Marimo sink onto him, mixing with the previous, feeling the way its warmth was stolen by the air.

"Then what do you suggest, shit head?" asked Sanji mildly, his brow furrowing as his favorite tool was slowly slipping from him.

There was a break in their struggle when the blonde lifted his leg to Zoro's gut, causing him to stagger and giving the cook enough room to pounce with his knife like a kitten on cat nip. He was grinning with excitement, his blade waiting at the untouched flesh of Zoro's neck.

"I'm waiting."

Zoro was shocked, finding himself in such a situation so fast. He narrowed his eyes, glowering at his captor. He could feel the blade up to his skin. Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time he found himself in this position and it wouldn't be the last, he knew this cook wouldn't press on his throat, he had too much fucking fun. Lucky for Zoro, his nights of digging holes and swinging sledgehammers had him overpowering the cook's arm strength. It took him just a moment to roll them over, placing him on top, their bodies smudging the blood gathering on the tiles.

Sanji smirked, pleased with the sudden change. So this was Zoro's answer eh?

"You perverted bastard..." He purred, lowering his knife and moving his arms to rest over Zoro's shoulders.

"You're the one to talk, sick cook." grunted the Marimo.

He leaned forward, his teeth crashing against that of his captors, needing to shut him up. His voice all insane and calm at the same time was doing too much to his body he didn't want to admit or encourage. Sanji, though, seemed willing, but only so far. His arms and his hand still holding the blade were behind Zoro now and there was a reason for it.

Being gentle, as if you could even call it that, more so only using only enough pressure to not cause too much damage, the blond aimed his knife towards Zoro's back and sliced. He sliced down the center like he would cut a piece of meat, slashing over the clothes and opting for the easiest way to rid the Marimo of them, cutting them off. His skin began to bleed and Zoro tried pulling his face away but Sanji's teeth were at his lips and he chuckled darkly.

Zoro did eventually get away though, even if it involved a bleeding lower lip in the process and a curse as he arched his stinging back. Fuck, that hurt way more than he could have imagined and it wasn't even deep. Sick of hearing his groaning, Sanji grabbed him by his moss hair to bring back his focus and jammed the handle of his knife between the swordsman's sparkling teeth. So many ways to use it, even as a gag.

In his distraction by his bleeding back and the knife in his mouth, Sanji shoved his palms against Zoro's shoulders and pushed him back, bringing this situation back into his favor. He was the boss here after all, he called the shots. Zoro's head banged back and Sanji let out a soft sigh. Really, couldn't his toy be a bit more careful with himself? Bruises were so unattractive... he wanted cuts. Those told stories and remained as precious scars…

Speaking of scars, the cook took his moment in the spot light to start at his shirt. It was still dripping with thick blood that had almost fully dried. The freshest of all was that of the Marimo's and though it wasn't possible, Sanji felt it had the most appealing fragrance of them all. Still, he quickly made it through the buttons of his dress shirt and peeled it off over his shoulders, his grin growing at Zoro's eyes scanning him down. He knew the brute was too stupid to think about two things at once, of course lust would always triumph pain. Zoro was coming along quite nicely.

Zoro reached for his mouth, though, finding himself wanting to speak, but the cook wouldn't let him. He slammed his hands down against the tile with his hands and moved forward on top of Zoro with his knees and feet.

"No, not yet." was his only command, his hands leaving Zoro with mild trust and moving to his fair skin.

It was kind of interesting to see that each time for the Marimo. This was the sick bastard that cut people up to pieces until they weren't people anymore and dropped them off for him to smash. Yet here, this butcher who loved his knives had not one scratch on his body. Zoro would know in a twisted way, since it was the body he used quite often for affection.

Sanji's long fingers found their way to the front of Zoro's pants were quite a bit of fabric looked strained, having to contain the Marimo's bulge underneath. The cook wasted no time releasing him and hurriedly yanking his pants down and clean off. It was a positively inviting patch of green that might not have made the swordsman flush, but definitely try and protest again.

Sanji's hand wrapped around him teasingly while his free hand went to his own pants. It was time to multi-task because he wasn't patient, if it weren't already obvious. While his face lowered itself to the Marimo's begrudging excitement and gave sweet kisses up its shaft, he started to undo and squirm out of his pants and boxers. Zoro's eye just watched, his heart beginning to race. Was it already his birthday?  
"Would you like to know who it was today...?" he asked him absentmindedly, though it might as well have been dying to roll of his tongue. "She was beautiful and stunning... I think her name was... ah well that isn't important."

Zoro was resisting the moan threatening to escape him as he shivered, feeling the warm tongue of the cook tease him with its moisture before cruelly pulling away. His eye trailed back to the slash to his side and arm, where a wall of blood had begun to trail together down his skin. Long since had he been numbed by the fact Sanji didn't even care who his victims were. Still his tongue brushed up against the knife handle still in his mouth.

"She requested me all week... had the plumpest breasts I've ever seen... she was wonderful."

Zoro's eye widened and he watched as Sanji nearly crawled on top of him, his hips passing his groin just slightly as he lifted himself. Was Sanji really about to do what he thought? Riding him raw? What a sick son of a bitch-

Zoro's vein practically popped out of his neck and his face went red, feeling as gravity took Sanji down his erection, forcefully pulling him into a tight warm abyss of friction. He groaned out, his back arching as he struggled to keep his composure. Sanji practically sang, closing his eyes tight and vocally shouting out in his pleasure at having Zoro inside him raw. He shuddered, his moan turning into laughter and gasps as he looked into the former swordsman's face.

Zoro was stunned and, nevertheless, still a bit impressed. How was his pain tolerance so high he wasn't dying right now on top of him? Zoro might as well do it instead for him, his hips instinctively bucking and he yelled, though it only came out muffled, in demand for him to start moving. You couldn't just force him into such a space and not relax or move! Was he trying to kill him?

Sanji closed his eyes again a moment then opened them half way, his hands hovering over Zoro's body and hands, that were now gripping onto Sanji's hips. Such a trained perverted asshole, not protesting but totally holding him in his grasp. The cook slapped him away and licked a little of the blood from his hands, before directing them to Zoro's nipples.

He pinched them, watching as he groaned and Sanji moaned with him, relaxing his body and directing the first thrust.

"She was annoying though, didn't know how to just sit there and let me love her. Wanted commitment or something..." Sanji explained. "because that's what bitches come to a host club for."  
He paused, looking up at Zoro's strained face and gliding himself further against Zoro, his eyes fluttering with his moans of raw burning pleasure. He was being ripped apart and he loved every minute of it. But again, being the painful tease he was he stopped, gasping and struggling a moment to continue, straining his face.

"I know, I know, I was foolish to bring my work... to work. But you've got to understand..."

Sanji leaned forward, riding him more and pushing his forehead hard against Zoro's. He was talking while moving now, a much more urgent tone to his voice as his words came out a bit louder over the sound of their flesh meeting flesh.

"I hated her. They're all the same!"

He paused again, his panting increasing. His arms moved back around Zoro's shoulders and brought their bodies closer.

"They won't listen. I just want them to be silent and be gorgeous. Is that so much to ask? To do what I say? Oh well... you do what I want, don't you..."

He nuzzled at the side of Zoro's neck opposite of where the blade in his mouth pointed. His lips moved up to Zoro's ear and licked at the three earrings there that chimed at the attention.

"I want you to mark me, Zoro." He begged. "I need you to sign me."

Zoro froze, his chest rising and falling quickly. Sign him? Mark him? What the fuck was he asking, exactly? He watched him lean away and cuff his hand behind Zoro's head, grabbing the Marimo's hair harshly before directing his mouth and that knife towards his shoulder.

"Do it." He snarled in that bone chilling tone that had Zoro feeling instantly weak and heavy.

Zoro swallowed thickly, tasting the wood of the handle in the back of his throat. He was dying to plow the blonde and get his fix already before things here got too drastic, but couldn't help but shiver when he could feel the end of the blade catch Sanji's skin.

Was this the cook's attempt at romance in some fucked up way? Really? So all he needed to do was sign him? Fine, he could do this. If he could bash in the skulls of random girls that didn't meet Sanji's expectations, he could mark Sanji. He tightened his jaw and pressed inward, listening to the way Sanji's breath hitched and he dragged the blade across the smoothest of skin, that above the cooks collar bone.

It seemed cliché, given his name and the Hollywood movie that had its likeness, but going backwards diagonally down then across again, he scratched out the 'Z' of his name. How nice, the mark of Zoro. He dared to pulled his head back, feeling how as Sanji began to tremble, his grasp on him failed and looked at the pale expression.

Sanji was breathing deeply and began nodding. Yes, this is what he wanted. He looked down at his new mark, bleeding furiously. Stupid Marimo didn't know what he was doing with such a unique tool, but even so it was perfect. With a shaky hand he curled his fingers around the blade of his knife, still lodged around Zoro's teeth and retrieved it, paying no mind to it's effect on his palm.

Zoro took a moment to just breathe out of his mouth, thankful that damn thing had been removed.

"You are fucking nuts." He gasped. "Get back to moving!"

Sanji looked down at his hand, holding the blade tighter and feeling it do its damage.

"So eager for something to be fucked. In that case."

For the second time in a single night, he did the unexpected. Having such a grasp on his blade he quickly moved his arm back. Having planned ahead and taken Zoro's pants off completely, it left him free to do exactly what he wanted... by ramming the handle of his weapon of choice up his ass. He stayed silent, his bangs shadowing his face as he heard the other scream out in agony.

Then Sanji began to move. He lifted himself up and down on Zoro all whilst maneuvering the knife inside the swordsman, not a care in the world about what was happening to his hand. He listened to the melody of their noises until his returned higher than the swordsman's, a special spot being found inside him.

"B-Bastard!"

Sanji arched himself forward, his free hand desperately reaching to find Zoro's shoulder... then his ear... and those earrings. Then, just as the world escaped him to send him spiraling into a euphoric high, he gripped onto those earrings he often had a love hate relationship with and ripped them clean off, yelling out his captive lover's name and tightening around him. He jabbed the knife in as far as he could inside him and released it, his hand bleeding onto the floor as he came between them hard, his release mixing with their blood between their skin.

Zoro felt him shudder, his head jerking away at the shock from his ear lobe being ripped out and cried out at the knife. The tight space around his member felt unbearable and he couldn't take it anymore. He released inside the psycho cook rough, his snarl wavering until... all was silent. They were breathing there, Sanji on top of Zoro still, quietly removing his knife and admiring the new blood that came from Zoro stained on it's handle.

This had been a job well done. Another eventful night. He dropped Zoro's earrings before he touched at the mark that stung constantly at his chest. Stupid swordsman, and here he had boasted once or twice before over dinner about what he could do with his mouth and a sword. He left Zoro alone though, pulling himself off and leaving him on the floor and awkwardly half walking to his sink. Sanji had been clouded momentarily by his strange lust, but in the back of his mind he couldn't help but be bothered by his lovely utensils wasting away in the water.

That night ended like every other though. Zoro, after coming back to reality came back to his senses and took their special first aid kit out of the closet and over to Sanji who was already waiting with another glass of wine, his fingers unable to stray away from the mark engraved into him. Then without saying anything he began to stitch him up, tending to the wound on his chest and his hand first, considering they were the deepest.

In a sane man's mind, why would he bother doing this for a serial killer who used him like such a toy? In all honesty Zoro didn't know. Sanji didn't either as he watched him.

"You know this doesn't mean I love you." He whispered, wincing at the pain of a tight stitch. The Marimo's hand eye coordination was absolutely horrible.

Zoro only nodded in agreement and cut the string off with his teeth. He hissed as the blonde reached out and gently touched at where his earrings were ripped out.

"I just can't be with anyone else. Understand?"

The Marimo paused in his work. It was funny, in a sad way. He'd been doing this for months and recently had all the opportunities in the world to flee. This guy had kidnapped him after all, made him do horrible things and become his accomplice. Zoro could never be normal again after what he had done. But for some reason, when Sanji got like this and finished their nights saying the same thing over and over again, Zoro couldn't help but feel he was where he was most needed and sometimes, on occasion, desired.

"I understand Sanji. I understand."

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**Based off the ImagineYourOTP prompt**  
_Person A of your ship is a serial killer. They come to person b's house to claim them as their next victim, but find themselves oddly attached to them and instead kidnap them. In return for their life, B is now forced to bury all the mutilated bodies of A's victims._  
Thank you so much for reading and all reviews are appreciated *^* This one took lots of working on XD


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